


keep it down, now

by wistfulwatcher



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Oral Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I didn’t get to see you yesterday,” Raven says casually, and it makes Abby’s chest tight. Because of the hint of disappointment there, because of the way they’ve both come to expect the other’s presence. Because she missed Raven, too, even just for a day.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>takes place about a month or two post-finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep it down, now

“Here you go,” Raven slides up next to Abby and hands over a glass of – **  
**

She wrinkles her nose. “Monty’s newest batch?”

Raven gives her a knowing smirk, and Abby takes a very slow, careful sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat. She shouldn’t be drinking this, shouldn’t be letting anyone drink it considering it’s illegal and she may not be the Chancellor anymore but she’s sure as hell still an adult.

Raven’s fingers ghost across her lower back, far too low to be anything near appropriate.

There’s a lot of things she shouldn’t be doing, these days.

“ _Raven_ ,” she warns from behind her glass, and breathes out as the soft sensation stops.

“I didn’t get to see you yesterday,” Raven says casually, and it makes Abby’s chest tight. Because of the hint of disappointment there, because of the way they’ve both come to expect the other’s presence. Because she missed Raven, too, even just for a day.

Abby lowers her cup, stops hiding her face, and looks at Raven for a long moment, all soft eyes and parted lips, and sometimes she thinks that they can’t be a secret, not with the way she looks at Raven.

Raven’s eyes dart between her own, and she takes the smallest step closer, angles her body to face Abby’s, and her fingers brush against the curve of Abby’s waist.

It can’t be a secret, not with the way Raven looks at  _her_.

It’s thrilling and confusing and so so addictive, and Abby looks away, around the party for a small moment to make sure all eyes are off of them. They are, of course. Everyone had learned pretty quickly after Mount Weather to leave them both the hell alone. Abby was –  _is_ – still grieving Clarke’s departure, and Raven, well. She’s a fighter, but even the strongest of survivors needs time to recover.

They had both leaned on one another in the aftermath, too much time spent in Medical, spent hearing the other’s cries, spent watching the other wince at the same movements. They had the same battle scars this time, and it was always there between them, even if they couldn’t speak of it.

“One of the hunting parties was attacked,” Abby murmurs, and runs a thumb over the rim of her glass. “I couldn’t get away,” she adds, and looks up at Raven’s open face, still so expressive and brave and warm, and Abby wants to touch her, to brush the hair back from her face.

“Can you get away now?” Raven asks with a raised brow, and Abby wants to say yes, wants to fall into Raven and touch her and kiss her and slide between the welcoming heat of her thighs.

She takes a long drink of the alcohol. “Not without drawing some attention our way,” she gives Raven a sidelong glance, and focuses back on the people dancing in the reconstructed center room of the Ark. It’s silly, the traditions they’ve held on to, but at the same time they need it, need the normalcy in some form. Especially now.

“Pity,” Raven whispers, and Abby turns her head to look at her when she feels the heat of Raven’s eyes on her. “’Cause I’m not sure I can wait until later tonight,” she adds seriously, and when she takes a step closer into Abby’s space, Abby lets her eyes flutter closed.

And then Raven’s hand is pressed against her hip, a strip of bare flesh being seared by the heat of Raven’s palm where Abby’s shirt has ridden up. She can feel Raven’s fingers start to creep under her shirt, start to trace along the dip in her back, where Raven knows – after torturous,  _beautiful_  hours of exploration – Abby is especially sensitive.

She forces her eyes open and she knows her nostrils must be flaring slightly with the effort to exhale, but she can’t open her mouth or she thinks a rather telling noise will escape. They’re standing near one of the support beams, off to the side of the room, but it’s not enough, not private enough for the burning that is starting to spread through Abby’s body.

“This is a bad idea,” she bites out, and licks her lips. Raven just leans back against the support beam, the angle putting her just a bit behind Abby, and then her fingers are teasing the top of her pants, dipping against the curve of her ass.

And oh god, it must be the moonshine, as few sips as she had, because all she wants is for Raven to keep going.

Instead, she pulls her hand back completely, stands beside Abby like nothing has happened. Abby looks over, trying to pull herself together at the same time she tries to silently question why Raven stopped.

Raven just gives her a dark look, eyes glinting mischievously in that way that makes Abby’s heart race, and then she finishes the last of her glass.  “Wanna dance?” she smirks, and it’s not a question because Abby can’t say no to her, not when she looks at her like that.

She takes a long drink and almost finishes her own glass before Raven takes it, stacks it in her own and sets it with the rest of the discarded dishes and then reaches for Abby’s wrist and tugs her into the crowd.

The floor is fairly packed, it seems like the entire Ark is celebrating, and it means they dance close. So close, close enough for Raven to rest her hand too low on Abby’s hip to tug her closer, and no one seems to notice.

Abby starts to move, to sway enough to get into the fast beat, and Raven keeps moving closer, closer, and suddenly it feels like she is all around her. Her breath is hot and sweet against the curve of Abby’s neck, and her breasts press against Abby’s own, they are so close.

“What are–”

“Shhh,” Raven turns her head and whispers it directly into Abby’s ear, and that’s it. She can’t fight it anymore, because she missed Raven just as badly as it seems she missed her, and she doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way that the poor choices seem to get easier to make, but she doesn’t care about keeping this secret anymore.

Her palm lands hot on Raven’s back, she curls her fingers into her skin and tugs her closer still, and her lips brush against Raven’s ear. “ _Touch me_ ,” she whispers, and Raven curses low under her breath before she tugs Abby’s hands from her body, pins them to her side just on the edge of aggressive, and fuck if it doesn’t make Abby wet.

The music cuts and there’s some kind of announcement, all eyes are at the front of the room, and the next thing Abby knows is the ice cold beam of the Ark pressed against her back.

Raven’s pulled them both out of sight, just on the other side of the room. It’s not private, not really, but they’re hidden in the L shape of the beam, and with everyone’s attention on the festivities, Abby lets herself lean forward and take Raven’s mouth in a deep kiss.

It’s barely been more than a day since they’ve had this, since they’ve been able to touch and taste and feel the other, but they’ve become so dependent in the past few weeks that it feels longer, feels brutal.

Raven moans against her lips, her tongue teasing her quickly before she presses Abby back against the beam to look at her.

Abby’s breathing is labored, and she would be embarrassed if she was thinking rationally in the moment. Only she’s not, not at all, and so she reaches out and tugs Raven’s shirt up so she can slip her hand up the smooth plane of her stomach, over the curve of her waist and higher, higher, until her fingers are teasing the underside of her breast.

“Fuck, Abby,” she hisses at the sudden sensation, and steps into Abby’s space until her knees are nudging Abby’s legs apart. Raven’s hips are flush against hers, the pressure is nice and not enough, and she wishes they were back in their room so she could feel the full length of Raven’s soft skin against her own.

Cheering sounds from the other side of the beam and they both freeze a moment, realize what they’re doing, realize how  _easily_  they could be seen. They’re not doing anything wrong, not really, but neither are ready for any kind of public relationship, aren’t ready for dealing with anything big after Mount Weather. (And each day it gets harder for Abby not to acknowledge that this might actually be  _something big_ , someday).

They’re just not ready to be seen, and so they freeze. Abby swallows harshly, and they should go back to one of their rooms, go somewhere private. But then Raven’s eyes trail over her body slowly, her scrutiny is hot and heavy, and suddenly Abby’s not so sure about that plan.

And when Raven reaches for the button on her jeans, she lets her. And rolls her hips and leans her head back against the wall because this may be wrong, but oh god she needs to feel Raven’s fingers inside of her  _now_.

“I should stop,” Raven whispers, and falls against Abby’s chest, Abby’s hand trapped between them as her fingers tease the band of her sports bra. “But I can’t,” she says, and her words are heavy but her lips are turned up in a smile, and this is what it is between them.

“Good,” Abby doesn’t mean to moan but she does, and so Raven slides her hand between Abby’s body and her clothes, and they both make a strangled little noise once Raven is touching her.

She’s slick and hot and the smallest pressure against her clit makes her hips roll forward, hard, and she’s so grateful that she doesn’t need to beg before Raven slips her fingers over her lips and into her core.

Abby’s mouth parts and she’s choking on the gasp in her throat, nothing is coming out. So her free hand reaches for Raven’s forearm, grips her skin and she knows Raven will have bruises there later but neither of them seem to care. Because Raven just licks her lips and guides Abby’s hand beneath the bra until her full breast is in her hand, her lips curling together to stop the noises she usually makes.

If Abby were more reckless, she would scrape her nails gently over Raven’s nipple, and kiss her on that spot just below her ear, do all of the things she knows can elicit the low scream she wants so desperately to hear.

Raven slips a third finger into her and she has to exhale quickly, lick her lips and breathe. She is not reckless enough to make Raven scream, but she doesn’t have to self-control to get Raven to stop trying to do the same to her.

So instead she abandons Raven’s nipple, slides her hand out of her shirt and to her back until she can turn them, until Raven is against the wall and their lips are pressed together desperately.

Abby’s no longer gripping Raven’s arm, instead holding on to her desperately by the shoulders, and Raven’s smiling against her lips when they finally part. “You’re so  _wet_ , Dr. Griffin,” Raven teases, her lips brushing Abby’s as she speaks. She leans back a bit to look Abby in the eye as she asks, “Do you like this? Me taking you in public, where anyone can walk by and see?”

The answer on her tongue is  _no_ , but Raven’s words send a thrill up her spine and she rolls her hips down, seeking pressure harder and faster and so Raven just smirks.

“Hmmm, thought so,” Raven bites her lip, and then she’s pulling back, pulling her fingers out of Abby and she misses the thickness immediately, misses the pressure from Raven’s thumb on her clit and she knows her brows are furrowed in frustration when she looks at Raven.

Who is sinking down, is moving to kneel between her legs and oh god, no. “Raven, what are you thinking?” she tries to sound authoritative as she hisses the words, but her cheeks must be red from the way her body is flushing and her body reacts almost immediately to the sight of Raven in such a familiar position.

“I’m thinking you better be  _silent_ ,” she raises a brow in challenge, and no, this is too far,  _anyone_ could walk by and–

Raven’s tugging at her jeans, slipping them down to mid-thigh, and  _this is not happening._

But oh god, it  _is_ , and Raven is looking up at her from between her legs, she’s watching Abby as she leans forward and spreads Abby open before dipping forward and licking the length of her slit.

“ _Raven_ ,” Abby groans almost silently, and one hand shoots out to brace herself on the wall of the beam in front of her.

The music starts up again, loud, and Abby is grateful because she is getting close, the thrill and the pressure of Raven’s fingers and now the soft touch of her tongue, it’s all too much, and Raven has to grip her hip with one hand to keep her from moving too much.

Abby wants to look down at her, to look at the beautiful girl she thinks she might be feeling  _something_ toward, but she can’t, can’t let go of the wall and can’t move too much, she’s too close.

So she uses her free hand to brush Raven’s hair back behind her ear, strokes her neck and jaw, and bites her lip so hard she think she might draw blood.

And then Raven’s hand moves from Abby’s hip to her back and she strokes the sensitive skin once, twice, and Abby is coming, she’s unraveling and tightening, and thank god Raven has the forethought to stand and capture the sound that starts to come from Abby’s lips.

She can taste herself on Raven’s tongue, and it makes her body hum in the aftershocks. Raven kisses her sweet and soft as she tugs Abby’s jeans back up, zips them before turning to press Abby back against the beam like when this first started.

“That was,” Abby breathes out when they part, and her eyes shift between Raven’s as her chest settles.

“Dumb?” She teases knowingly, and glances around to ensure they’re still alone. (Not that it matters at this point, of course.)

Abby brushes her hands down Raven’s arms slowly, licks her lips, and presses a promise of a kiss to Raven’s jawline. “Worth it,” she murmurs, and slips her hands down over Raven’s back to the curve of her ass.

“Oh, really,” Raven sounds smug, and so Abby kisses her again to stem the other woman’s (well-deserved) ego. “You know,” she starts again, “since we’ve already left the group we might as well leave,” she smirks.

“Hmm,” Abby murmurs, biting back a smile. “Fine. But turnabout’s fair play, Raven,” she presses one hand into the curve of Raven’s spine. “Just because we’re in private won’t mean you can make a sound.”

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from an anon on tumblr: "can you please write more abby/raven sex in public? like i love the idea that raven cannot keep her hands off of abby so much"


End file.
